Memory Fade
by Stor-E-Phool
Summary: Dr. Rhia Fodderveld is one vet who hates her monotonous job. What she really wants is to be a writer. She figures that she'll get her book published one day, but with her boring outlook on life... who can turn her life around? Probably no one. Probably.
1. Chapter 1

**Memory Fades**

**_By Stor-E-Phool_**

_The sun sank slowly into Hawk Ridge, glowing a bright red against the darkening sky. The soft chirping of crickets uttered up out of the cattails by the fishing pond as Abigail sat, propped up by the drooping willow tree. _

_She wanted to let her mind rest by staring out onto the water, watching the water lilies float upon the surface, but thoughts kept nagging at the back of her mind. Megan. Jerome. Dead?_

_She just couldn't bear to---_

"Hello? Dr. Fodderveld?"

I stopped typing and looked up from my computer. A portly woman with bright blonde hair and an angry expression on her face and her pampered poodle stood in the middle of her living room. Wonderful. Another customer.

"I don't know if you know this," the woman growled, "But I've been waiting here for a full thirty minutes."

I strapped on a salesman's smile. "I'm sorry for the wait, Ms. Taylor! Just finishing up some paperwork, then I will be right with you." At that, the woman harrumphed rudely and stomped back into the waiting room.

With a sigh I turned back to the computer screen.

_---think about it. Her two friends had been alive just a day or two ago._

_"...Can life really be so... fragile?" she asked herself, then drooped her head in sorrow._

'More like meaningless.' I thought, saving and minimizing Microsoft Word. I lifted myself from the old blue swivel chair and trudged into the waiting room.

"Okay, now that that's all done, what can I do for you and Lulu this evening?"

"My _poor poopsie_ is sick again." Ms. Taylor replied as we made our way into the examination room, "She's been roaming around the house wallowing all day. Fix her, Doctor."

I held back an angry sigh. This woman had been wearing at my last nerve for the past three months with constant complaints about her poodle. I wondered why she even bothered.

I quickly looked Lulu over, trying to find something amiss. As usual... nothing found.

"Ma'am, I can't seem to find anything physically wrong," I said, removing my handling gloves and throwing them away and turning to owner and dog.

"You... you mean she's depressed or something?"

"Maybe. Listen, I have a breeder friend in Barkley who specializes in these cases. If you're seriously worried about Lulu's mental stability you can talk to her." I offered in a serious tone. Yes. All Lulu needed was a few puppies to change her attitude; not to mention that Judy would appreciate a pure-bred bitch to match her new pure-bred stud, Piercy.

'Rhia, you are so good at your job.' I thought to myself as I waved goodbye to Ms. Taylor as she and Lulu sauntered down the walk to their car, 'It's just too bad you hate it.'

I sank back into my swivel chair in front of my computer and brought back up Word. Ugh. It needed more zazz. Preferably PIZ-zazz. It was so boring. It needs... it needs--

My thoughts were interrupted by purring right next to my ear. I looked up. "Oh, hey sassy." I lifted her off of the desk and into my lap. "I don't know. Abigail's character seems too..."

"_Meow?_"

"Yeah, that. _Pathetic_." I laughed at myself. Talking to a cat. Maybe _I _was the pathetic one.

I sighed for the umpteenth time that day. Time for bed.

**_A/N: Maybe the end. Maybe not. I have another story I'm nursing right now, and since there aren't that many fans of this game writing fanfictions, this one is a story I'll go easy on. Review if you're interested in critique or more of the story(believe it or not there is one). If not, don't bother._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Memory Fade**

**_By Stor-E-Phool_**

The curtain was parted about a quarter inch, ushering in a bright shaft of morning light. It hit my weary face with cheer, making me groan in agony. Reluctantly, I swung my feet out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. I dragged Sassy away from the dripping faucet. She'd been licking at it all morning, it seemed. Her dish must've run out of water. Sighing, I busied myself with personal hygiene routines.

No sooner had I stepped from the steaming shower than the IN patient bell chirped. I sighed again. The busy vet; off to work again.

I flung on a plain pink shirt and my favorite levis. Not too fashionable. Oh well. When I finally make it to the waiting rooom, I saw a nervous-looking little boy. He looked to be about seven or eight years old and was carrying a newborn kitten in each arm.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Fodderveld." The little boy looked up at me with huge green eyes.

"I'm Kurt." I smiled and gestured to the kittens.

"What do we have here?" Kurt held the cats up to me, and I took them. One was an orange, striped tabby and the other was a little tortiseshell. They were both very tired looking and layed limply in my palms.

"They won't play."

I examined the kittens breifly. "Kurt, sweetie, how much did you play with them yesterday?"

"All day." I rolled my eyes. As I explained to little Kurt about how they needed to sleep just like human babies, the bell chirped again. It was a woman with a dog.

After that was an old man with a bird. Then a teenaged boy with a ferret he was keeping a secret from his parents. Then a Rabbit.

A cat.

A Dog.

Another bird.

It was still only nine in the morning, but, finally, business began to slow down and I collapsed into my chair at the computer. I brought back up Word and resumed writing one scene I'd been dying to type.

_Craig's strong hand was rough against hers, like sand paper to cotton. It eminated warmth into her icy hand and felt so good._

_She glanced fleetingly into his normally stoic face. His deep amber-like eyes reflected a brief look of pain. The lake's gentle breeze tussled his brown hair against his lightly stubbled cheek, and his hand tightened around hers. He stared into Abigail's eyes; searching for something. Some answer._

_"I-I think I love you, Abigail..." He pulled her body closer. His lips parted as he leaned toward her and--_

_Cling-Ka-Clink!!!!!_ went the clinic bell harshly in my ear, making me jump half out of my seat in surprise. I'd been into the scene... _too_ into it.

Again putting on a smile, I went into the waiting room to greet my new patient and it's owner. Lord willing, I would one day quit this job and get a real life like the characters in my stories had. One with handsome men and true love and exciting dates to look forward to each Friday. Eventually that was what my life would be like. I think.

I stopped dead at the door to the waiting room. A tall, musculary man stood in the center of the room, his bright red hair gleaming in the light that streamed through the window. He heard my footsteps and turned to face me, his dark brown eyes peircing as they met mine. I shivered and stepped back into the doorframe. Steve.

"Rhia. Long time no see, sweetie." He purred, taking my shaking hand in his steady one, "Are you ready to go?" I looked down and shook my head no. "You know today is Sunday, honey."

I shook my head again, and shrank away from him. This wasn't happening. He wasn't here. Not now. "W-why are you...?" I stumbled over my words. His presence was still as menacing as it had been before, possibly even more so now.

"Why am I here, you mean?" He laughed. His voice was loud and deep and bellowing. "Why, I'm here to pick you up for church, dearest. Now why don't you hurry and go put something nice on? We don't want to be late." I nodded numbly and walked to my room like a robot. Memories flooded back as if a dam in my brain had burst. Memories that I had thought had faded with time replayed in my mind so vividly that they could have happened yesterday.

I slipped on a red V-neck blouse and a white skirt embroidered with roses. My Sunday Best. My _only_ best. I breathed in slowly and exited my room, to find Steve right outside; waiting. He smirked and looked me over. "You look great, sweetheart." His arm stretched around me to rest on my waist, but I shrank away again. I caught a hint of a frown that crossed his features, but it quickly disappeared. I grabbed my purse and we headed out the door, my heart pounding in my ears the whole time.

Steve opened the car door for me and I sat in the cushioned seat. He still had the same car as before. Same iguana-patterned seat covers as before. Same fuzzy green dice as before dangling in the mirror. Nothing had changed, and I still felt like that same naive eighteen year old girl I was before. He started the car and it revved just like it used to four years ago. Luckily, the church was only a mile or two away and the silence was cut short. Steve smiled and leaned toward me, his hand resting lightly on my knee. His lips touched my ear as he whispered to me. "I've missed us, Rhii." I shivered. "Us" he says? No.

I jerked the car door open and leaped from the car. I marched toward the small steepled building, hoping to get inside before Steve could catch me. Hopefully I could find a seat in a full pew were _he_ couldn't get in. Where I could get away.

Unfortunately, I soon felt the heat of his presence behind me. I tightened my hand around the strap of my handbag and slipped into a row on the left side of the center isle. The church was crowded and had dim lighting, half of it coming through the stained glass at the front of the chapel.

It was going to be a long day indeed.

**_A/N: Okay. So, slowly and steadily, I have created the second chapter of my Sim fic. WHOO! Finally finished!_**


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